Conversations Over Tea
by Orlissa92
Summary: Many things can happen over a pot of shared tea. Somewhat connected Zutara-centered one-shots, with different characters. Fifth chapter: Uncle Iroh and Zuko
1. Fathers' Duty

**A/N: After two months of complete silence, I am finally back! :) This little something has been on the edges of my mind for weeks, but I only sketched it down last night, and wrote it today – and I am pretty proud of how it turned out.  
I plan to make it into a series of connected one-shots. I already have one more story for this planned (as well as a lemony Makorra one-shot), and after that, we will see :) It also fits into my headcannon, where most of my Zutara stories happen. It's actually kind of a prelude to Wedding of the Century, if you will :)  
Rating: K+ (for now)  
Word Count: 2319  
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you that I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender]**

Taking the delicate china cup into his hands as gently as he could, Hakoda was still afraid he would crack it.

He was not used to… this. This grandeur, this wealth he had met in the Fire Nation palace during the last few days he had spent there as a guest for Fire Lord Zuko's coronation. He lived in the South Pole his whole life, surrounded by snow and cold and the harshness of life, and then he spent almost three years practically living on a ship, fighting a war. He was accustomed to tend to himself, to survive; to coarse materials and the rugged metal of his weapons. Here, in the palace, the servants looking out for his every wish, the silks, the rich foods, the smoothness in everything, even in the courtiers' manners felt strange. And not really comfortable.

He was glad it was almost over and he – alongside with his children – would be sailing out in three days. He would go home, to a peaceful life full of promises.

But just as he had thought everything, every celebration, formal function and parade were over, and the only thing he had to worry about was to stock his ships fully, general Iroh requested – no, asked – him to have tea with him.

In itself, it was no strange thing. In the Southern Water Tribe, drinking tea was not really in fashion – mostly because it was a real luxury, something that was hard to attain during the time of war -, but here, in the Fire Nation, no day could have gone without a cup or two. Especially not in the company of Iroh.

No, it was the manner Iroh had asked him that unnerved Hakoda. Like it bore some kind of great significance, like this pot of tea they were to share would change lives. Like he wanted to talk about something important.

Hakoda took a sip of his tea. It was way too sweet, had way too much honey in it for his taste.

Were they in the South Pole, were they to discuss something important, he would have offered Iroh arctic wine. Or at least something stronger than tea.

"I hope you find the tea to your liking," Iroh said, placing his own cup on the low table between them. "It's my own blend. Ad I am not one to brag, but the people seemed to love it in Ba Sing Se"

Small talk. Hakoda hated small talk. In his life, where almost everything was about life and death, where everything was about if he could protect his family, if he could put food on their table, there was no time for beating around the bush.

But there was, apparently, in the Fire Nation.

"It's… nice," was all he said. He put down his cup, too, still half-filled, the surface of the liquid shaking a little. "Really, it is. It is just… It is about more than just tea, isn't it?"

Straight to the point. Just as he liked.

Iroh straightened his spine, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Yes, yes of course," he picked up the pot, and poured again, both for Hakoda and himself, holding his sleeve back carefully. "I am not exactly familiar with the Water Tribe customs," he started, his gaze still fixed on the cups. "But in the Fire Nation, when a young man expresses his desire to marry a girl, it's up to his father to ask for the girl's hand from her father." By the time he finished he was looking at his companion, smiling unashamedly.

He didn't have to say anything else. Hakoda already knew what was going on.

Katara – his little Katara, who was still just a child – and Zuko, his daughter and the new Fire Lord, they were together, for weeks, maybe for even months. He didn't know when this thing between them had started – sometime between the time he had been separated from his children when Azula had attacked them at the Western Air Temple and the arrival Sozin's Comet. They were in love, he guessed. They weren't over the top about it, at least not in company – a brush of hands here, a stolen glance there. Secret smiles. He also knew they met 'secretly' in the gardens during the nights; just to be together, just to cuddle up to another. Like all young people did when they thought they were in love.

But up until now… up until now he had thought that it was just a little crush, something young people always have, something he used to have when he was their age, something that would go away with time they spent apart, something he wasn't at all worried about, but now…

"Since my brother obviously can't fulfill his duty as a father now, my nephew has asked me-"

"No."

Hakoda didn't let him finish the sentence. No. That was the only thing, the only word that came to his mind.

"No?" Echoed Iroh, a little bit taken aback.

"No. She is… Katara is too young." She was only fifteen; not even old enough to be betrothed. "I don't know about Fire Nation standards, but our women are not eligible for marriage before they are sixteen."

Iroh leaned back in his seat.

"Oh, this shouldn't cause any problems. How long is that until she turns sixteen? A few months, right?" That small, irritating, joyous smile found its way back to his face.

"Six," Hakoda said through his teeth. How he wished he could have said more! But no – in mere six months, Katara would turn sixteen. Practically, according to his tribe's customs, she would be an adult.

"That's excellent," Iroh beamed, taking a sip of his tea. "That much time would be sufficient for my nephew to strengthen his hold on the throne. In six months, I assume, he would have enough control over the council to make them accept Miss Katara as his bride. Until then, your word and your blessing, which I can forward to my nephew, would be enough. We can make it official when she comes of age." He finished, setting his cup down and offering his hand for a water Tribe-style handshake to Hakoda.

The chief just looked at him, desperately trying to find some objection, any objection, why this marriage shouldn't take place, not yet, not now.

"No… I-I can't. Her dowry isn't ready."

In the Water Tribes, it was the bride's responsibility to bring everything that was needed to run a household to the marriage: pelts, bed sheets, bowls and cups and utensils, skins to make clothes of, even a crib. It took years to put everything together, and Katara, her mother dead, her father away, almost the whole world on her shoulders, was terribly behind in getting her dowry together.

"I-I can't let her marry, not without it. How could she…" He stopped mid-sentence, his will bending under Iroh's gaze, telling him without words that he was missing something.

Pelts and skins and bowls would be needed at the South Pole, where she would start from nothing with her new husband, where everything was harsh and cold and where she would have to do anything herself, but in the Fire Nation capital? As the wife of the Fire Lord, as the Fire Lady? With servants and cooks and seamstresses at hand, they would be as much use to her just as a bowl of komodo chicken to an Air Nomad.

He turned his eyes down, fixating them on the delicate china cup in his hands, slowly turning it around, inspecting the gilded edges, the amber liquid inside swishing from side to side.

"He really loves her, doesn't he? I mean Zuko – he really loves my daughter? It's not just a… a fool's decision, or a political play?" He didn't even look at Iroh.

The older man took a moment to consider his words.

"My nephew sure is a man of rash decisions, somebody who tends to act first, think only later, but… what does a rational mind worth when it comes to love?" Hakoda could actually hear the smile in the general's voice. A smile and something as close to fatherly pride as an uncle can get. "Zuko, no matter what he has been through in his short life – or, maybe, exactly because of it – yearns for love: to love and to be loved. And he has found it in your daughter. He would be a fool to let it go." He took a breath. "So, to answer your question honestly, yes. He really does love Katara."

Hakoda still didn't turn his gaze from the cup. So that was it: not a joke, not a game, not a ploy to gain more power.

His daughter and the Fire Lord were really in love.

Then what could he do about it?

It's not just it would be unfit for a father to balk his daughter's happiness, but he also knew Katara – if this was what she really wanted, she would get it, no matter what he said. He chuckled to himself somewhat sadly. Katara was strong, independent, a warrior. So much like her mother.

And anyway, what had he thought? That he could marry her off in the South Pole? That she would be always so close by? Thinking about it, really thinking about it now, he knew that it was foolish to think that. There was nobody in the Southern Water tribe who was worthy of her. No young man smart enough, strong enough, kind enough.

And then what would she do all her life in the snow, anyway? There was a hope for his tribe now, a hope for a better future, a future resembling what the tribe had been decades ago, before the Fire Nation raids, but it wouldn't be enough, not for Katara. She had already seen the world – it was all hers, all the wonders and faults. How would she be content to leave all that behind and go back to an igloo where she could never be much more than a housewife?

And if she couldn't marry in their own tribe, then what? Would he send her to the North Pole? She could find a boy of a good family there for sure. Somebody who is equal in rank to her. But would she be happy? Hakoda doubted. He still remembered too clearly of that obnoxious boy who had been supposed to marry Arnook's late daughter. The thought of seeing somebody like him with Katara made him cringe.

What did it left? There was that earthbender boy, Haru, who he knew liked Katara, but even if she returned his feelings – which she did not, Hakoda was sure of that -, he couldn't have provided her anything that the men in their tribe couldn't. And then there was Aang – Aang, that sweet child, who was so smitten with his daughter, but somehow, Hakoda could never take his feelings for Katara seriously. The Avatar was still a child; too young to really understand, to really feel the kind of love that led to a lifetime spent together.

In the end, everything came back to Zuko. Suddenly, Hakoda saw all the fleeting glances and the unsure touches in a brand new light. What he had written off as a crush, a soon-to-be-memory feeling, was suddenly true affection. Something so deep he could just hope to understand. Something similar to what he had used to share with Kya.

It was not his place to stand in their way, he decided. If they wanted to get married in a few months, a year from now, they should do it, even if he felt like it was rushed. If it meant that his daughter would be happy, he would stand aside, and let her be happy.

He finally raised his head and looked at Iroh, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand.

"All right," he said, proud that his voice didn't crack. "If this is what Katara really wants, then my blessing is theirs. You have my word – Fire Lord Zuko can have the hand of my daughter."

Iroh's face softened; he looked amused all along their conversation, but now how looked absolutely overjoyed.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, offering his hand again to Hakoda. "You can't even imagine what a joy you have just brought to this old man and my nephew."

Hakoda took the arm offered to him, gripping Iroh's forearm.

"But I have a condition for your nephew, Iroh," Hakoda continued as he let go of the older man's hand. "You might have my blessing – but ultimately, it's Katara's decision. Don't let your nephew think that he's off the hook. If he really wants to marry my daughter, he has to ask her himself. Betrothal gift, awkward speech, all that fanfare. Getting down on one knee if necessary."

"Would she need a necklace, just like the one she wears now?" Iroh caught on quickly, apparently enjoying their little newfound conspiracy.

Hakoda considered this for a moment; people hadn't used betrothal necklaces in his tribe in decades, but it was the time of rebirth. Then why should he?

"Yes, that would be great. And maybe even something you people give for engagements here." He was getting bold, he knew that, but he didn't care. It was the least one should expect when one of the world's powerful men was asking for his daughter's hand.

Iroh let out a good hearted laugh, feeling very much in his element.

"I will make sure to forward your criteria to my nephew," he chuckled. "Now, to celebrate the bond soon to take place between our families – would you like some more tea?" He reached for the pot.

Hakoda shook his head.

"No, thank you. But if you happened to have something stronger – I would be really glad to share some of that with you."

**The next time: Ursa and Katara**


	2. Women Amongst Each Other

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait :S This one little darling was a killer to write – this is the fourth version. All the first three were scrapped after about one page, they were simply not working… But I hope I finally nailed the scene with this version :)  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 2332  
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender]**

* * *

Katara's hands are slightly shaking as she is pouring tea into the delicate china cup.

She shouldn't be nervous, not at all, she is telling herself, but it doesn't work. _Not at all._ She can only hope that she won't pour the tea next to the cup, to the table. Or drop the cup altogether.

But she has the right to be nervous, after all: it's the first time she is with her future mother–in–law. Alone.

She swallows.

Ursa, wife of former Fire Lord Ozai and mother of the current Fire Lord, returned to the capitol after long absence only about a month ago. The public knows nothing of the reasons of her disappearance, but Katara does. She knows that she killed her father–in–law and helped her husband to steal the throne from his brother, just to keep her son alive. Katara respects her for it, but also fears her.

After all, she is about to marry Ursa's only son.

The wedding is only a few weeks away, and Katara only arrived at the Fire Nation capitol the night before. Lady Ursa was considerate enough to let the young lovers spend Katara's first night in the Fire Nation alone (after all, they hadn't met since their engagement). But, she didn't fail to point it out, she wanted to meet Katara the next morning. Just the two of them. No Zuko.

And all right, Katara is a little bit afraid.

Ursa is sitting on the other end of the small table opposite of her, looking regal and powerful and beautiful, even after nearly eight years in exile. True, there is grey in her hair and wrinkles around her eyes. But still…

Katara feels like an insignificant, plain, inelegant little girl in her presence.

She swallows again.

Ursa takes the cup from her, brings it into her lips (Katara marvels at the gracefulness of the simple movement; she hopes she'll acquire it with time). Katara holds her breath as Ursa takes a sip. She brewed this tea herself, and she has learned during last year that people from the Fire Nation are rather picky when tea is concerned.

Ursa drinks, puts down the cup and then smiles at her. It's a small smile, but it's there. But she is still intimidating.

"You are a nice girl," she says finally after a few long moments. "And very pretty. Yes, very pretty indeed." She takes time to study Katara, her eyes travelling from the girl's face down to her hands. "But your hands… they are not a lady's hand." She comments, and Katara is suddenly feeling embarrassed. She hides her hands under the loose sleeves of her dress.

Yes, her hands are not a lady's – they are a warrior's. A housewife's. Ever since she can remember, she has been helping out at home – washing clothes in icy water, stitching skins together, scrubbing dirty dishes. The war didn't help their condition at all – the skin on them is chapped and she has calluses on her palms and the pads of her fingertips.

"Tell me something about yourself," Ursa continues. "Zuko has told me things about you, but truth to be told, he is a little biased." She picks up the cup again. "So… how is life in the South Pole?"

Katara has a vague idea of what she should say – she has read books on the proper behavior of court ladies. According to them, she should quiet, observant and obedient, trained in calligraphy and play at least one musical instrument, and relish in painting and embroidery.

She can't say none of these things about herself.

She swallows.

But she has been raised to be honest.

"It's… tough. There is always something to do – even now, that the village is more developed. There are always clothes to wash, meals to cook… or walls to build, houses to repair with waterbending. And then, during the last year, I also had to find time to prepare to what's ahead of me – I studied Fire Nation history, culture, politics… So… I am never bored." She concludes, and can only hope that her answer is satisfying enough.

"I have been told that your father is the chief of your tribe – then why are you doing these tasks you have listed? Don't you have servants?"

Katara hangs her head in shame and embarrassment.

"No. We are a small tribe. And my father… he has duties as the chief, not privileges. We live just like any other family in the South Pole. There, everybody is equal. We have no servants there."

Ursa nods and takes another sip of tea. Katara hasn't even touched her cup yet.

"So you didn't take part in diplomatic dealings alongside your father?"

"No…" Katara gulps. "He was away in the war for years. But I travelled the world with the Avatar. I know the kings of Omashu and Ba Sing Se, and the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. I got along pretty well with them. And the leader of the Kyoshi warriors is practically my sister–in–law." She is glad she can, at least, list these people.

"I am aware that you are a realized Master Waterbender. Are skilled in anything else?" Ursa changes the topic, her voice still stiff.

Again, Katara's answer is not exactly what she thinks Ursa would like to hear.

"I am not only a warrior, but a healer, too. And I am familiar to midwifery – I have been helping my grandmother deliver babies for years. And…" And what else could she say? That she makes excellent Sea Prune stew? That she is quite good at mending clothes? These skills are completely irrelevant in the Royal Palace.

So she keeps silent instead, and brings her cup to her lips.

Uncle's tea is better.

"I see…" Ursa says softly. "Do you have anything else to add?"

She is speaking before her mind could register the words leaving her mouth.

"I love Zuko. I really, really do. More than my own life. And I know that he loves me too. And… and I want to spend my life with him. I know it might sound crazy and foolish now, and that you most likely think that I am unfit for your son, that I'll be never good enough for him, but I don't care. The only future I see for myself is the one where I am beside him. I want to be there for him, help him. I want… I want to have his children. I want to see them grow, and watch his hair turn grey, and be with him till the very end, and… I love him."

For a moment, Ursa almost looks startled. Katara has already regretted what she said.

Ursa doesn't say a word for a long time, only sips her tea. When her cup is empty, she holds it out for Katara for a refill. The girl lifts the pot wordlessly. Her hands are shaking again.

"In some aspect, you are right," Ursa speaks finally, not meeting Katara's eyes. "You really wouldn't be my first choice for Fire Lady."

Suddenly Katara forgets all her fears, and speaks up for herself.

"Madam, I–"

She starts, but a simple wave of Ursa's hands silences her.

"In public, you'll address me as Princess Ursa," she says firmly, but when she continues, her face softens. "But in private, Ursa or Mother will do. If you are comfortable with it, of course." She places her hand on top of Katara's, who is rendered speechless. "And please, let me finish: as I was saying, you wouldn't be my first choice for Fire Lady – but there is no person I would love to see beside my son more. I see your love for him, and that's exactly what he needs."

"But… then why?" Katara stutters.

Ursa leans back in her seat, smiling softly.

"These girls around here, Mai especially, were trained from very young age for this position. They know their way around the court. You don't. You weren't raised here, you don't know the important families, and it's a great disadvantage. But don't worry!" She leans towards Katara again. "All these things can be learnt, and you are a clever girl. And you have an ally in me, Katara!" She squeezes the younger girl's hand. "I'll teach you everything you need."

"Really?" Katara can hardly dare to believe what she is hearing.

"Yes," Ursa's smile widens. "I'll help you through everything. Every duty, every little trick."

"What do you mean, exactly?" Katara asks in a soft voice.

"Tell me, Katara – what is the duty of the Fire Lady?"

Katara lets out a long breath. She has studied that.

"The Fire Lady's sacred duty is to watch over the people, to make sure that they are content. She deals with the business of the hospitals and orphanages. She manages the cultural events and celebrations." She recites technically word by word from a book she borrowed from the palace's library nearly a year ago.

Ursa nods a little, her smile turning a little patronizing.

"You have done your reading, haven't you?"

Katara blushes.

"I…"

"It's okay. At least I know that you are diligent, and, in some aspect, you are right. But there are some things that can't be learnt from books." Ursa reaches for her cup again. "Your – or in case, our – job will be to make sure that the hospitals and orphanages function efficiently, and that the festivals go without a glitch. But the fire Lady's job doesn't end here." A playful, conspiratorial smile plays on Ursa's lips as she drinks from her tea. "It's also your job to provide heirs for the Fire Nation."

Katara's blush deepens, but Ursa only lets out a musical laugh.

"No need to feel shy! That's how life goes; I am a mother – one day you'll be one too." She sets down the cup again. Katara peeks into it and sees that it's empty again. She refills without a word. "But I want you to know – you don't need to hurry."

Katara looks puzzled.

"But I thought… The Council…" She thought that she is supposed to fall pregnant as soon as possible.

Ursa waves, as if saying that the Council is not relevant.

"Of course the Council and the Sages will want you to conceive right away. But they are all stuffy old men – they have no understanding of how the female body works. You can keep putting off getting pregnant for a year or even more, using certain herbs, and they will think that it's completely normal." She takes a little break. She glances sideways, through the window, her smile disappearing. "But don't get me wrong," she says, not meeting Katara's eyes. "I can't wait to have grandchildren. It's for your sake to wait. Find your place in the capitol first. Take a grip on your position. Show the nobles who you are." Her smile returns. "And enjoy being a newlywed, of course. So there's no rush."

Katara nods, not really trusting her voice. She needs some time to process all this information.

"And there are, of course, the things you won't find in the scrolls," Ursa continues. "Things men don't talk about, but all women know."

Katara has no idea what she is talking about. Ursa must see this on her face, because she elaborates.

"It might appear that we are subservient to our husbands – it might appear that they are the ones who make the final decisions. But remember this, Katara – who think that is wrong." I little, secretive smile appears on her lips. "We, women, are the greatest weapon a man can own. Our beauty, wit, charms and intelligence are the things that make us so valuable."

Katara clings to Ursa's every word, leaning towards her in her seat.

"You must to know that some extent every man is a slave to his wife. He does what his woman wants him to do. We whisper into our husbands' ears, plant our ideas in their minds, making them carry out our plans." Ursa takes a short break, letting her words sink in. "To get to a man, the easiest way is through his wife."

"So, if some noble is opposing Zuko," Katara tries to put the pieces together in her mind, "All I have to do is to talk to his wife?"

Ursa nods.

"Charm her. Befriend her. Make her devoted to you – it should be an easy job for you. You are young and pretty – there is an air of naivety around you, which veils well you actual intelligence and craftiness. And you are kind, with a heart of gold. Once we have the noblewomen accept that you are the rightful Fore Lady despite of your ancestry, it will be easy to get them side with us."

"And then we'll win their husbands for Zuko," Katara concludes, the things finally clicking together in her mind.

Ursa rewards her with a genuine smile.

"I knew you were a smart girl – but don't forget! It works the other way around, too. Zuko is just as much at your mercy, as the noblemen at their wives'. But I know you'll manage well." She raises her cup as if she wants to say a toast. "To this nation's next wonderful Fire Lady!"

Katara, mimicking Ursa, holds up her cup as well.

"And to the women, who'll help me down the road leading to that!"

They click the delicate china together, in a mocking manner to the men's dinner table toasts.

Katara empties her cup and frowns. Yes, Uncle's definitely better.

"I think I know the very first thing you should teach me," Katara says, looking at Ursa, who looks back at her questioningly, urging her to continue. "How to make decent tea."

Ursa laughs out loud, tilting her head back.

"I am afraid we will have to wait with that until Iroh arrives. Believe it or not, my tea is much worse than this."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this :) Now, as for the next chapter (which I hope I'll be able to write much, much faster :)), you got to choose: should it be about Katara and Gran, or Katara and Zuko?**


	3. Wisdom Of The Old

**A/N: Finally, it's here :) It took me less time to finish this than to finish the second one, but still… Anyway, this is the point in the story where we throw chronology out of the window: this one-shot takes place between the first and the second one. Zuko and Katara are already engaged, but Katara still has to leave for the Fire Nation. Just to make things more messed up, the next one will take place a few months after their wedding. I hope you'll enjoy it! :)  
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Avatar – the Last Airbender]  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 2638**

* * *

"I don't understand why Fire Nation people have to make drinking so complicated." Kanna said, looking up from her knitting only for a moment to steal a glance at her granddaughter who was currently fighting with a kettle full of tea. She let out an exasperated sigh.

When her granddaughter had come to her not even half an hour earlier, asking her to help her practice the tea ceremony, she had been happy to oblige – she was always ready to help her grandkids. And after all, some hot beverage in the icy South Pole was always welcomed. Even if it was a terribly difficult and long process until she got hold of her cup of tea.

"It's not just drinking, Gran-Gran," Katara explained, huffing a little, pushing her hair away from her face. "Serving tea is more like a social gathering. It's all etiquette. And, apparently, it seems like the Fire Lady is expected to excel at it."

She raised the kettle and, with slightly trembling hand, she poured a cup of tea. A drop slid down on the side of the cup as she gently pushed the delicate china – Uncle Iroh's gift – towards Kanna.

Katara frowned.

"Well, it seems like I am not Fire Lady-material," she sighed, and, just as Kanna raised her hand to pick up the cup, Katara bent the tea back to the kettle. Kanna only shook her head.

"You act like everything – peace and war and lives – depended on tea," she said, and Katara was about to protest – she was about to say that a lot really did depend on tea, or more likely, tea ceremonies, especially in the Fire Nation –, but Kanna continued before she could have uttered a word. "You and I both know that your husband won't judge you by how you make tea. No husband does that." A devious smile found its way to her lips. "He'll more likely judge you by what you do in the bedroom."

Katara's cheeks flushed instantly, the tea she was pouring ending on the table.

"Gran-Gran!" She looked around frantically, face ablaze, as if she was afraid that Hakoda, Sokka or Pakku would step into the room any moment. As if it was a deadly sin for a betrothed girl to talk about lovemaking.

Kanna found her granddaughter's antics completely endearing.

"No need to be embarrassed, darling!" She laughed. "It's a part of life. A part of your life soon, too."

With a nervous flick of her hand, Katara pushed a stray lock behind her ear.

"I am not embarrassed, it's just… hard to talk about it." She stood from the table, stepped to the sink, and emptied the kettle, getting rid of the remained tea.

"Oh, you'll get used to it." Kanna said, turning back to her knitting. "What do you think, what do the married women talk about in the community tent, when no man or child is around?" She chuckled to herself. "Of course, at least it's something worth talking about. You'll see it, too, after your wedding night. Or, maybe you are already..."

Katara, who was just reaching for the tin box containing the fresh tea leaves, dropped the box. The tin met the floor with loud clattering.

"No! I am… we… no, I mean…" she stuttered, then took a deep, calming breath, resting against the counter. "I mean, I am still a virgin. If that's what you were implying. We haven't done… that. It doesn't matter what Sokka says." She bent down to pick up the box, purposefully turning away from her grandmother.

"You didn't want to? Or you did, but you had no opportunity?" Kanna's voice was disturbingly nonchalant.

Katara let out a small groan.

"Do we really have to talk about it, Gran-Gran?"

"We don't have to, but I'd like to." She really did – of course, she only wanted the best. She wanted her granddaughter to be ready and know everything she needed to know. When her granddaughter didn't respond, only sat back down to the table and started preparing the next pot of tea wordlessly, her cheeks still red, Kanna continued, without missing a beat. "Maybe you should have." When she saw that Katara was about to protest, or at least state that it was a topic she didn't want to discuss at all, Kanna put her knitting down and kept on talking, not even giving Katara a chance to speak. "Yes, it's mostly likely would have been better if you two tried it. Got to know each others' bodies a little bit. Two fumbling virgins on the wedding night is not the best thing." This was the point where Katara tried to cut in again – maybe to state that Zuko was no virgin, though Kanna would have found that hard to believe –, but she didn't stop to listen to her. "Lovemaking is not something you know instinctively – it's something you learn, sometimes trough trials and errors." She reached over above the table and covered her granddaughter's hand with hers. "Don't expect too much from your first time. It won't be like what you've might read in some scrolls. Now, don't look at me like that! I was a young, curious girl once – I did my fair share of reading, too. And there's nothing wrong with that." She said in a light tone, her eyes fixated on her granddaughter's red, embarrassed face. "All I am saying is, don't you let yourself be discouraged if there won't be earthquakes, stars and fireworks for the first time. All you have to do is keep trying and learning. It'll get better, I swear. What better? It'll get great."

Kanna leaned back in her seat, smiling contently. Even Katara seemed a little bit more relaxed, her cheeks slowly regaining their normal color, her shoulders falling forward a little as she sat on her chair, the tea waiting to be prepared almost completely forgotten.

"Are you finished, Gran?"  
"Not at all, sweetheart," she answered, picking up her knitting again. "We still have so many things to talk about! We haven't even covered half of what we have to talk about what happens in your bedchamber." She started moving her fingers, her knitting needles clicking together quietly. "For example – and it's a very important advice –, always talk with your husband. Tell what did you like, what you didn't. And ask him of it as well! This way, you'll get a better understanding of each other's bodies, and–"

"Gran-Gran, do we… do we really have to talk about it?" Katara cut in, echoing her previous question, as she again started on the tea, her hands trembling just as much as her voice, her cheeks reddening again. "I mean… thank you and everything, it's really sweet of you trying to… help, really, but it's… kind of hard, for me at least, to talk about things like this…" With a nervous flick of her wrist she swept a nonexistent lock of hair from her eyes. "…Especially with you. I mean, you… you…"

"Katara, stop," Kanna said, her voice, for the first time during their discussion, lost its playful undertone. She set the knitting aside again, even thought she'd hardly worked on it. "Come here!" She motioned Katara to come to her. The younger woman stepped to her grandmother wordlessly, sank to her knees at her chair and, encircling her grandmother's waist with her arms, she rested her head in the old woman's lap.

"I know it's uncomfortable for you, of course I know," Kanna said, softly caressing her granddaughter's hair. "I've experienced this before – once when I was your age, and once when your mother was your age. Really, the embarrassing talk is the part of becoming a woman – of becoming a wife." She let out a trembling sigh. "It's should be your mother who makes your cheeks flame today, not me. She should be the one who tells you about all the secrets and miracles of married life. She should be the one who guides you along this way. She should be the one you run to in the next few years, if you have problems and questions and you can't figure them out by yourself. But…"

"But she can't be here," Katara whispered, a lone tear sliding down her face.

"No, she can't," Kanna shook her head. "But I am here, and I'll help you as long as I can. I will, and I am doing my best to prepare you for what's ahead of you. It's only natural that I try to make you feel a little uncomfortable," she ruffled Katara's hair playfully. "Do you see?"

"Yes, Gran-Gran," Katara said, rising from Kanna's lap, smiling a teary smile. "And thank you."

"You are very welcome, granddaughter."

They were silent for a few moments, Kanna keeping her hand on the top of Katara's head, her fingers deep in the mass of brown curls, Katara kneeling on the floor, breathing evenly, while tears were sliding down her face.

"What do you think, what would mom do if she was here?" Katara said at last. "What would she think of it? Of Zuko?"

Kanna smiled sadly.

"She would be grumbling, saying that you are way too young to get married, and upset because you have to go to live so far away. But secretly, she would be so proud of you and so happy for you, that she couldn't even express it with words. She'd love Zuko, too. She may be a little harsh towards him, but then she would start to coddle him the moment we looked away. Nothing could make her happier than your happiness." Kanna took Katara's face into her hands, gazed down at her for a few moments, then leaned in and place a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. "Now, get up!" She said quickly as she let go of the younger woman. "Where's that tea you promised? I am parched!"

Katara got up, chuckling to herself, and started to pour the tea, this time with steady hands. Her grandmother sure had a way to change the flow of the conversation.

She pushed the finished cup of tea towards the patiently waiting Kanna, who was smiling at her with that kind, slightly patronizing smile only grandmothers can master. Kanna picked up the cup and took a sip – and did it so gracefully, that even the noblewomen in the Fire Nation's teahouses couldn't have done better.

"You are definitely improving, my darling," she said, nodding a little. "Not only in taste, but as far as I can tell, in manner as well. By the time you arrive at the Fire Nation, you'll best every of those snob noblewomen!"

Katara cast her gaze down, smiling, her eyes finding the unfinished knitting on the table.

"What are you working on, Gran-Gran?" She reached for it, but Kanna was faster.

"Oh, just a little something… A very little something." She added with a slight, secret smile. She held up the tiny, half-done, light blue garment for Katara to see. It was a sweater, meant for a baby, made of soft wool, with tiny, intricate designs mimicking the waves of the ocean. "But maybe I should have used red yarn… Or maybe I'll just make one in red, too."

Katara's eyes widened.

"Gran-Gran…" She started. She couldn't believe it… They had just finished this whole lovemaking-topic, and now her grandmother was knitting baby stuff.

…And obviously not for Sokka, who still hadn't gathered enough courage to propose to Suki, let alone to be advanced enough in their relationship to consider having a baby. As if! Suki had enough work with keeping the child she already had in line – this child, of course, being Sokka.

She, on the other hand…

She was getting married in less than three months. And she was supposed to get pregnant the sooner the better – at least according to that council member in the Fire Nation palace who was amongst the ones who were the most loyal to Zuko and with whom she had talked about being the Fire Lord's bride not long before she'd left the palace after Zuko's coronation. According to him, an heir – regardless of gender – would bring stability and ensure her place in the palace.

But this didn't mean that she was ready to start to work on this project head on. (Spirits, she hadn't even discussed it with Zuko yet!). She wanted to have kids, of course. She hoped that Zuko wanted to – anyway, really, they didn't even have a choice. But this doesn't mean that she felt ready for it.

"Gran-Gran," she started again. "You are not saying that… You are not trying to tell me…"

"Katara, don't overreact this!" Kanna warned. She took a deep breath. "Zuko, and all his 'smart men' have already stated that you don't need to bring any dowry – because you'll have everything there you'll need, and because pelts and furs wouldn't even be useful in the Fire Nation. Call me old-fashioned, but it feels wrong for me. A woman should bring the things she needs into her marriage. It makes me feel… almost guilty to think that you'll go to the Fire Nation empty handed. So, at least let me prepare some things for you. Things you'll be able to use. Things from your home." She turned the sweater around. "And don't tell me that you don't find it cute, too!"

Katara had to smile hearing this. The little garment was indeed cute. Unreasonably cute.

"It is, Gran-Gran, but I don't think…" She took a deep breath. "I don't think I'll need this for quiet some time."

Kanna's smile faltered a little as she put down the sweater and picked up her cup.

"I am aware of that. And I am not trying to hurry you. I only want the best for you." She reached over the table with one hand and caressed Katara's face. "When I was your age, I had just arrived at here. I didn't think of children, let alone marriage then. And here you are, my beauty, almost in your wedding dress… I can hardly believe this. It's so hard for me to watch you go, but I know that this is what you want, so I try to be happy for you."

She took a short break, her thumb skimming over Katara's eye.

"And I know that when the time comes, you'll be an excellent mother – you have already proved that. But that time isn't here yet." She took her hand away and took another sip from her tea, emptying the cup. "But no matter how sad it is, I am not getting younger. While your life is just starting now, mine is slowly getting closer and closer to its end. And I can only hope that I'll be still around to see your children, to know them, even if for only a short while."

Katara couldn't say anything. She simply refilled her grandmother's cup, just to somehow ease the silence.

"But promise me one thing, Katara," Kanna continued. Katara raised her head and looked into her grandmother's eyes. "Promise me that you'll always remain yourself. That you won't let those fools on the other side of the ocean change you. Be true to yourself!"

Katara nodded a little, her eyes tearing up again. She wiped the wetness from her face with the back of her hand.

"I promise you that, Gran-Gran. And I also promise you that you'll live to see your great-grandchildren."

Kanna smiled, her expression proud and content.

"Very well. Thank you, my darling." She lifted the cup to her lips again, drank a little, and then, seemingly completely forgotten what they had been talking about only moments earlier, she said: "Now, please tell me: what are you planning to wear on your wedding night?"

"Gran-Gran!"

* * *

**The next time: Zuko and Katara**


	4. Chase Away My Fears

**A/N: I guess a broke a record :P It's the fastest I made a new chapter for this story :P (And this one, too, the longest so far as well.) Also, as of chronology: this one is set after all three pervious ones, about half a year after Zuko and Katara's wedding. I hope you'll enjoy it!  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 3631  
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender.]**

Katara took a sip from her tea; the amber liquid first felt unpleasantly bitter, but then left a surprisingly sweet aftertaste what lingered in her mouth for minutes afterwards. She looked down at the cup, frowning a little. She knew this tea well – she had been drinking it for half a year. And she was starting to get enough of it.

This tea, made of the leaves of the common rue was supposed to prevent her to get pregnant, and so far, the drink served its cause. And even in the beginning, when she and Zuko had just gotten married, when she had been just adjusting to court life, it made sense to drink it. Neither of them wanted to have a baby so soon – it would have been inconvenient. They were young. They had time. Plenty of it.

And still, now, six months later, they were still young – she was only _seventeen_ – and they still had time, the Council was silent, there were no demands for an heir yet, they were enjoying their time together, so certainly, a child was not needed yet, but… Most recently Katara felt like something was missing. There was that hollowness within her when her moonflow arrived. There was that soft, nudging feeling inside of her, urging her forward, urging her to create something, the drive to give life.

…But she had no idea if they were on the same page with Zuko on this topic.

She glanced at her husband sitting opposite of her on the other side of the small, low table, engrossed in some document or other. A small smile played on her lips. The Sun had just started its daily journey on the sky and he was already deep in work, his breakfast untouched, forgotten in front of him.

_ Now or never._

"You know, I've been thinking," she started softly, as if she was introducing a completely ordinary topic, like the things still had to be done regarding the impending spring festival, not a completely life-changing one.

Zuko immediately raised his head.

"Yes, sorry, did you say something?" He put the document aside and looked into her eyes, granting her his undivided attention. He always did that – he was either listening to her with every fiber of his being, or wasn't paying attention to her at all. But when she needed him, he was ready to put aside anything her was working on, and to concentrate on her, and on only her – something she was really grateful for.

"Yes. I said I've been thinking," she repeated.

"And about what?"

"About that maybe I should stop drinking this," she said, lifting her cup, not saying the exact thing, her exact desire, only hinting it.

Confusion clouded his eyes.

"Why would you do that?" He put his elbow on the table and leaned closer to her.

Katara did anything to remain calm and nonchalant.

"Well… I've thought it would be time for us to try for a baby – well, it might not be the right phrase. Not blocking nature's course would a more appropriate way to put it, I guess." She, too, leaned closer to him, trying to be a little seductive, trying to have him see all the appeal her idea had.

Zuko leaned back, away from her.

"Again: why would we do that?" He asked, apparently slightly repulsed and startled by the idea. "We are okay. We are good. We are happy. Why would we change that?"

It was Katara's turn to be confused.

"You think it would change that?" She asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, I guess so." He shrugged, evidently uneasy about the topic. "I mean, we have absolutely no reason to do that, not yet. We are healthy and young enough so that the Council is convinced that we have plenty of time for conceiving an heir. The economy is stable. The people are content. There's no reason for us to have a baby, really."

Katara scowled.

"I guess there are other factors we should consider." She meant to mean things like having a little person made of the two of them for them to love, for example, but apparently, Zuko had other things on his mind.

"No, I think I've already considered every factor," he replied, shaking his head a little.

Katara started lose her composure.

"You speak like it was a political decision."

"Because it is," he answered without missing a beat and then, just to prove what a completely ordinary thing he'd just said, he lifted his cup and took a sip from the – rue-free – tea.

Katara opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn't know what she should say.

"Are you being serious?" She started, but before he could have spoken, she continued. "This is really all what a child means to you?"

Zuko let out a long sigh, as if his wife was annoying him.

"Look Katara, I am the Fire Lord, every decision I take, every move I make, I have to consider–"

"That's not what I asked!" She snapped. The tea trembled in their cups. "I asked if a baby meant anything more to you than a wise political move. Than a tool. Than…" She choked on a sob. She didn't even realize how upset she'd gotten. She wanted to tell him so many things, about happy families and little feet and toothless smiles and happiness, bust she just simply couldn't. She was aware of the atmosphere he had been raised in, but she also knew what a warm-hearted, sensitive person he really was. She knew his real face – the one without the scar – but this new angle he was showing… She didn't like it at all. She swallowed. "Tell me you weren't being serious." She didn't look into his eyes.

There was a pregnant pause between them.

"Katara, I…" Zuko started, but then stopped. He blinked and tried again, opening his mouth.

But Katara had heard enough.

"You know what?" She asked angrily, already standing up from her seat. "Save your breath." And with that she stormed off, leaving her almost full cup of rue tea on the table.

When the door slammed shut behind her Zuko buried his head in his hands.

He was so screwed…

Katara avoided him all day. He didn't try to look for her, giving her time to calm down; he thought it would be okay to ask for her forgiveness only when she would listen to him without waterwhipping him into next week at least long enough for him to say that he was sorry. That he was a jerk. A huge jerk.

But then she missed lunch and didn't even show up for dinner, and it was starting to worry him. And when she was still nowhere to be found when he started to get ready for bed, he decided to abort his plan to let her come around and seek her out himself.

Not wanting to go to her empty-handed, he made a little detour to the kitchens and grabbed some cookies and made a little calming tea – just to have some peace offering on hand. He even thought about picking some flowers in the gardens, but he didn't want to seem that desperate – even if he was.

Finding her proved to be rather easy – it only took asking a servant who was oblivious to their row. According to him, the Lady had retired to _her_ chambers not a long ago.

…To her chambers. The rooms meant for the Fire Lady and the Fire Lady alone. The rooms she hadn't used ever since they had gotten married, having moved to his room right after their wedding.

It was not a good sign. Not at all.

He hesitated a little before knocking on the door of the Fire Lady's suite quietly, carefully. The knock turned out to be so soft that he wasn't even sure if she'd heard it. He waited a little for her to respond, but when she didn't, he let out a deep breath and opened the door.

The room was almost completely dark, only the moon shining through the window and a small, lone candle placed on the bed side table illuminating it. All the furniture was covered with tarps, save the bed, where his wife lay on her side, the furthest away from the door, facing away from him, the sheets drawn up to her chin.

Zuko swallowed and started walking to her.

"Hi," he said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. He saw her stiffen a little at hearing his voice; this told him that she was awake. "I brought you some cookies and tea."

She snorted.

"If it's rue, you might as well drink it yourself," she muttered into the night, not turning to face him, staying still. "Because I won't. If you don't want children… well, there are other ways to prevent that."

Zuko didn't react to her words. He didn't even flinch, even though they hurt. Even though he'd deserved it.

"No, it's jasmine. Uncle's blend, actually. I thought you liked it."

No answer; she stubbornly remained silent.

Zuko, upon reaching the bed, put down the cookies and the mug on the bedside table, kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed, sitting beside her. He waited a little, giving her time to do something, to say something, but she remained impassive.

Zuko sighed, resting his elbows on his knees, not even trying to touch her.

"Look, I…" He started, not really sure what he wanted to say. What he should say. "I just wanted to say I am sorry. I was a moron this morning. An ass. And I am sorry."

Katara didn't answer right away.

"Yes you were. And it's nice you've realized it. But it doesn't change the fact that you meant what you said. You really only see children as the necessary bad." She took a little break, and Zuko was sure if he could see her face, he would see tears streaming down her face. "And it's hurts. Really bad. Because we are so not on the same page here."

It was Zuko's turn to take his time with answering. To be completely, brutally honest.

"It's not just… that," he said finally, letting his head fall. "No, scratch that. This isn't about that at all. I think I wasn't completely honest with you this morning…"

This seemed to catch her attention a little. She flinched slightly, as if she wanted to turn around to face him, but then she remained still, lying on her side.

"What?"

"It's not really that I see children as some kind of political tool… it's more like that I am afraid." He hesitated a little, trying to collect his thoughts or waiting her to say something, he wasn't sure. "I am scared that if we had children I couldn't love them."

This time she did turn around, facing him, half sitting up, propping herself up on her elbows.

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about?" She asked harshly, sounding maybe a little angry, but he knew that it was only so to mask her fright.

"Let's face the facts – I didn't exactly have a caring, loving father whose footsteps I should follow," he continued, stubbornly staring at the opposite wall. "And what if I wouldn't be any better than him? What if I held our baby in my arms, and all I could think of would be if he could do exactly I wanted him to do? What if I had expectations so high for him that he could never live up to them? What if trying still destroyed him? What if I resented him for that? What if I hurt him? What if I… ended up being just like my father?"

Sometime during his confession Katara's arms found their way around his torso, pulled him down, laying him down next to her. He didn't resist, but instead wrapped his own around her, burying his hand and face in her hair.

"What if then, Katara? What would happen then?" He whispered.

"You are nothing like your father, you should know that by now," she whispered back, one hand on his cheek. She pushed him away a little, so she could look into his eyes. "You are such an amazing, loving person, I know this better than anybody. And I know that you are scared – but there's no point in it. You love me, right?"

He wanted to answer her with a million of things – that he loved her with all his heart, loved her more than anything in the world, that he would die for her, but he could barely croak out a simple "Yes."

She pressed a quick, sweet kiss to his lips.

"Then I don't see why are you scared of not being able to love somebody who's made of the two of us." She said, wiping the tears he didn't know he'd shed from his face with her thumbs. "And anyway, you think you are the only one who's afraid?" She asked softly.

"Why? Are you…?"

"Afraid? Yes. Petrified."

Zuko blinked. He was just unable to comprehend what would scare his brave, loving, warm-hearted wife about motherhood. Her, who had taken every misfit under her wings, acting as a surrogate mother to their little, dysfunctional almost-family during the war.

He pulled her closer.

"Tell me. What scares you? Tell me. I want to help."

She sighed.

"I started helping my Grandmother at births at home in the South Pole when I was nine; I even helped to deliver a baby on our way to Ba Sing Se all alone. Please, don't say anything now!" She asked when she saw him opening his mouth. "I've seen everything – the joy, the love, the pain and the death." She paused for a moment, taking a heavy breath. "The South Pole is… cold. Unforgiving. The Dark Months are ruthless. With the men away, we didn't even always have enough food. The expecting mothers often were weak, malnourished. The babies small and fragile. There were times when every third baby we delivered was a stillborn or died not long after birth. Even less survived their first few months. And there was no year when we didn't lost a mother in labor, too."

Zuko was too stunned to talk. He had been in the South Pole, more than once, and he had seen that, especially during the war, the living conditions in there weren't best, but he had never thought that so many had died because of it.

He wanted to say something comforting to her, something reassuring, but before he could have, Katara continued.

"My mother was no exception; she had children before Sokka and me. Children she lost. I even remember her having a baby once. I was really young, maybe three, and I remember her stomach rounding and she pulling Sokka and me close, telling us about out new sibling, but then she went into labor and… we never saw the baby. It sure was a stillborn, or died right after birth. I'll never know." She sniffled; Zuko could feel her tears on his neck. "And sometimes, when I think about us having a baby, I think about it too. About losing a baby we didn't even really had, one I carried within me for nine months, holding the limp, little body in my hands… I have no idea how my mother dealt with losing her children while remaining sane; I am sure the grief, the pain would drive me crazy, and when I think about I am just so, so afraid, you can't even imagine that, Zuko."

She didn't say anything after that for a long time, only sobbed silently into his neck, soaking his collar with her tears.

Zuko thought about what she'd said – her fears were real, tangible; she'd seen it happen. She had seen the dead children and mothers. She knew how easily that could happen. His fears, compared to hers, felt irrational now. Because Katara was right – he was not his father. He knew how to love. He loved her. If he had the chance, he could love their children as well – their children, all big, blue eyes and ink black hair, bending water or fire…

A warm, unfamiliar feeling blossomed in his chest at the thought.

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't even find caring for a child that hard after all.

…But then there was Katara still, shedding tears for her very rational fear.

"But…" He started softly, but the words died on his mouth. He swallowed and tried again. "You are this afraid – and yet, you still want a baby? How can it be?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes glistering with tears.

"I can't explain it – I just want it. It's a lot like falling in love. It's completely absurd and irrational, but recently no day passes without me thinking about having children. About having a little life grow within me, a life planted by you, feeling this little person move and feeling its heartbeat… I know the risks, maybe better than anybody, but I still want it."

He tried to understand her, and he liked to think that he did, even if only a little. He shifted a little, lying on his back, pulling Katara to his chest, somehow slipping under the covers in the meantime.

"Well, I am pretty sure – I think I even saw a document about it a few days ago – that the infant mortality rates in the Fire Nation, especially around the Capital, are rather low, lower than it's ever been," he said, seemingly starting a completely new topic, speaking in a calm, almost factual tone. "And the harvest was surprisingly good last year, and we are expecting another good season; there's enough food for everybody, without the fear of famine breaking out. Because of it, many things imported from the Earth Kingdom, what were considered up until now luxuries, are now reachable for even the poorer classes – spices, certain vegetables, herbs..." He took a little break, looking down at Katara. Her sobs had quieted and as he was caressing her hair, he saw her eyes slowly close. "And… if you did get pregnant, you could have the best of everything – I'd make sure of that; we could hire an array of healers, both from here and the Water Tribes, if you wanted. You wouldn't have to worry about anything, only about getting strong, and making our baby strong." He kissed the top of her head. "I wouldn't let anything to happen to you; I would do anything for you. But you already knew that, right?"

She chuckled.

"I had a good guess."

Neither of them said anything for a very long time after that. Zuko was sure that Katara was slowly falling asleep, but he was unable to calm his mind. How did they get here from this morning? What he'd found a foolish, dangerous and as of now unnecessary action only twelve hours ago, suddenly seemed, well… appealing.

He inhaled deeply.

Yes, he could picture Katara and himself with a baby now. No, it's not the good phrasing – he had always been able to do that. It's just that, suddenly, this picture didn't hold any negative meaning for him anymore. The thought was… nice. To have a little person to look after, somebody who'd smile a toothless smile at him, chubby little hands reaching for him…

As shocking as it is, he found himself wanting that.

"Katara?" He asked softly so he won't wake her if she'd already fallen asleep.

"What?" came the murmured, sleepy reply.

"If you stopped taking the rue tea like… today, would you conceive right away?"

She nuzzled her face against his chest.

"No… It would take about a month for the rue to get out of my system, and then who knows how long to get pregnant? I might conceive right away, in the first month after the cleansing period, might not. It might take months."

Zuko only took a moment to think it over.

"That's right. Then what do you say if we inform the kitchens that you don't need that tea anymore?"

Hearing his words, Katara raised her head to look into his eyes, her own eyes suddenly wide open and alert, just to see if he wasn't kidding.

"Are you quiet serious?" She asked cautiously and he nodded. "There's no way back once we start walking down that road, you know that, right?" Another nod.

"I am aware of that. And even though I might not be quite ready for it yet, a couple months… I think that would be enough for me to get prepared for it."

"And to get over your silly fears," Katara added, playfully jabbing his chest.

"And yeah, that… But I'll need you for that, okay?"

She laid her head back on his chest.

"You can count on me. I am not going anywhere."

"I am glad to hear that," he whispered entangling his fingers in her hair. "And you should know that I'll be here, too. For you. All the way." He pressed a kiss to her hair and then with a swift flick of his wrist he put out the lone candle that illuminated the room.

"So?" Katara asked after a few moments of silence.

"So what?"

"Are we doing this? This whole baby-making business?"

He smiled into the darkness.

"If you want me to, I'll burn the palace's whole rue supply in front of your very eyes the first thing tomorrow morning."

"That would be nice," she murmured, snuggling even closer to him. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered, though he wasn't sure if she heard him.

There was nothing else to be said.

**A/N: The situation Katara describes in the SWT might seem as a little bit of an exaggeration, but I don't think so. I mean, we only have to take a look at history: for example, Mozart (so we are talking about the eighteenth century, not even the middle ages) had several siblings – about maybe six or seven, I'm not sure – but only he and his sister lived into adulthood. My grandmother had ten siblings – two of them died in infancy (and now, we are talking about the thirties). Add the things we know about the SWT to these facts – cold, no real buildings, the men away, so I don't think they always had enough food, no real healers, and we can also assume a shortage in, for example, healing herbs. Now, this high infant mortality rate doesn't seem so exaggerated anymore, right?  
Also, I have been told once, I think in a review for Wedding of the Century, that Zuko and Katara are marrying pretty young (and, according to this story, starting a family pretty young, too), but I don't think that it is such a big issue. I mean, we know that Yue was betrothed at sixteen – which means she should have gotten married still deep in her teenage years. We shouldn't get upset about it – it seems like that in the Avatar world (at least in AtLA, as I would never say the same about LoK), this is the norm. In the real world, even a hundred years ago, it was completely ordinary to get married before turning twenty. So… it might seem a little bit strange for us, but not for them :)  
…And before I forget: I did my research. Common rue was really used as contraceptive back in the day :) Although it was used by the Romans, and actually I have no idea about the dosage and the method of usage… But let's pretend that it is available in the Avatar word and is taken as tea, okay? :P**


	5. Discussing Marriages

**A/N: And so, only two weeks (yikes, it's already been two weeks?), I present you the next installment of this story :) Truth is, this weekend I wrote a list about the story I really should write still this year – they number around seven (I say 'around', since I am not sure how many more chapters for this story will be written this year), so I'd better hurry up – and I do, since this little one was written in one day :) (proud of her little one :P), which is pretty good, considering that I didn't even write a sketch beforehand this time. But that's enough of my rant, read and enjoy!  
…Oh, one more thing: this chapter takes place before the first chapter of this story, so, once again, I am turning chronology upside down :P  
Word Count: 2408  
Rating: K+  
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Avatar – the Last Airbender]**

Tea pot in hand, Iroh glanced at his nephew sitting stiff and nervous at the opposite end of the table, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface. The old man smiled; he was easier to read than an open book.

"Maybe this'll help you calm your nerves. It's my own blend, and if I may brag a little, I find it rather efficient when I need to calm myself," he said, pushing a cup full of tea towards Zuko, who grabbed it and drowned the tea in one great gulp. Iroh only shook his head – so much for teaching his nephew to appreciate tea. But then again, in the state the young Fire Lord was currently in, Iroh could be happy he didn't manage to accidentally boil the tea and then pour the whole cup on himself.

One more reason why the Dragon of the West was dying to find out what was going on with his nephew, even though he already had a very good guess.

Zuko's coronation was only a few days previously and ever since that the two men hardly see each other outside the council chamber. There was always an ambassador or a nobleman to meet, a contract to sign or a peace meeting to attend to. And on the top of it all there were Zuko's 'secret' nighttime rendezvous with Miss Katara (Iroh had eyes and ears all over the palace; there was no way he wouldn't have found that out, not that, as half of the palace already knew about this courtship, it was a big secret), a new habit of his that endlessly amused his uncle. And Iroh had a feeling that the girl was the key of everything. And as the day of Katara's departure was inching closer, Iroh was only slightly surprised when his nephew came to him that morning, asking for help, but not stating right away what kind of help.

When Zuko finished drinking Iroh took the cup back from him and poured again, but didn't hand over the filled cup, but waited from him to say something, looking into the younger man's eyes, willing him to speak. When he didn't, Iroh decided that he needed a little nudge to the right direction.

"Now, Fire Lord Zuko, I can't help you unless you give me at least some kind of pointer," Iroh said, still smiling softly, still keeping the cup hostage.

Zuko hesitated a little. He swallowed – Iroh could see his Adam's apple bobble –, then spoke in a clear, determined voice.

"I want you to speak with Hakoda for me," he stated, without beating around the bush. Iroh only nodded; it was start.

"And about what, if I may ask? What is it that you can't discuss with him?"

Zuko answered right away, without even missing a beat.

"I want to marry his daughter," came the curt reply.

So it was about Miss Katara, even though Iroh couldn't say that he wasn't surprised by his nephew's intentions. The boy who wouldn't even go on a date without a little push to the right direction only half a year ago was now considering marriage. No, not just considering it – he seemed rather adamant about it.

"I would do it, but tradition says that it should be the fathers, who–" Zuko continued, but Iroh cut in.

"And you want me to do it?" he asked, touched by Zuko's words, completely forgetting the whole proposal part for a moment. Yes, he knew that Ozai was out of the question, but it still warmed his heart that his nephew wanted him to take his father's role in the situation.

"Of course," Zuko replied without thinking, maybe even a little annoyed that his train of thought was interrupted. "As I was saying, according to tradition it should be the groom's father who asks for the bride hand, and I think that Hakoda would approve if I went with the traditions. So, will you do it?"

Iroh looked into his nephew's eager, excited, amber eyes and mentally shook himself. As much as he wanted Zuko to be happy and help him – and initially, he wasn't even against the idea –, right then he had to be the responsible one, the one who isn't lovesick, who considers everything and makes the right decision, even if it's not the decision Zuko would want. Right then, he had to keep the Fire Nation's best interest in mind.

"Why is this rush?" he asked, leaning a little closer while trying to see the reason behind Zuko's haste. "She is not pregnant, is she?" Well, it did fit into the time frame, and he really did know very little about the time His nephew had spent with the Avatar and his friends.

Zuko's expression – eyes dilating in horror, cheeks aflame by embarrassment – answered his question before his nephew did.

"No! Of course not! We are not… We haven't even…" he stuttered. Iroh couldn't help but chuckle.

"Then why is this rush?" He repeated his earlier question, the smile leaving his face at once. It was serious matter. "She's not even of age, as far as I know, and according to you, there's no… urgent reason for marriage. Then why now? Have you considered everything?"

Zuko let out a heavy sigh, his shoulder slumping. When he spoke, he seemed much calmer.

"I have considered everything, believe me. I've changed, you know; I am much less impetuous than I used to be," he said softly. "And why's the rush? You are right, she's not of age yet and I could wait, but what's the guarantee that she'll be still there if I wait?"

Iroh was puzzled by his words.

"Are you not sure of her feelings for you?" he asked cautiously. If the girl didn't feel the same way for his nephew as he did for her, if she wouldn't wait for him, it was less of a good idea, not only for the Fire Nation, but for Zuko as well, than he'd originally thought.

"I am – I love her, Uncle, and she loves me, I know that." He sighed. "It's just… you should know better than anybody that marriages aren't always for love. And Katara… she's a good catch. She's beautiful, smart, powerful, the daughter of the chief _and_ sifu of the Avatar, nonetheless. Whoever's marrying her is making a good match, and I can't be the only one who' realized that. So if I wait and let her go home now without a promise that her hand is mine, who can guarantee that her father won't get a great offer for her that he can't refuse? Who can guarantee that by the next time I meet her she won't be engaged?"

Iroh nodded, seeing his point, but not really agreeing it. He'd talked with Pakku and knew about his and Kanna's story and knowing that Katara was Kanna's granddaughter, he doubted that the girl would succumb to an arranged marriage.

"Zuko, I don't think that Miss Katara would–" he started, but this time it was Zuko who cut in, already guessing what his uncle was about to say.

"Yes, she would. I know her better than you, Uncle. If she was convinced that it's for the greater good, that with it she'd help her people, she would do it, without hesitation. It would break her heart, but she would still do it."

Iroh considered it for a moment. He handed the still full cup back to Zuko – who, this time, only took a small sip, a sign that he was calming down –, and then poured for himself as well.

"I see your reasons, and they even make sense," he said, considering the amber liquid in the cup. "But still, there are other factors we have to take into count. Have you thought about your council?"

Yes, the council was a tricky question, and Iroh was aware of that. He could only hope that Zuko was aware of it as well.

"I have," the younger man nodded, putting down his cup. "This issue has been keeping me awake for days, Uncle. I have already told you, I have considered everything." He took a short pause. "As I have already said, Katara's a great match. If I married her, the Fire Nation wouldn't only earn the benevolence of the Southern Water Tribe, but the Northern as well, since she has links to there, too. And the rest of the world would also be content, seeing that I am willing to work together with other nations, even going as far as taking a bride from one of them. It hasn't been done in centuries, Uncle. I have looked it up."

"Even if they initially agree with your choice – or at least they pretend to agree – what about the question of heirs?" Continued Iroh, bringing up the next problem they had to face. "You know that they – and now I am talking about the whole nation, not only the nobility – would only accept a firebender on the throne. What if your waterbender wife never bears you firebending children?"

Zuko seemed to be really troubled by this idea. He plucked his crown from his topknot, freed his hair and buried his fingers in the ebony locks.

"I… there's a fifty-fifty chance for having a fire- or a waterbender, right? …Okay, maybe not, since a non-bending child is also possible. But even then, bending is strong in our bloodline, is it not? Katara's the only bender in her family. If we had… let's say, four children, there's a great chance for at least one of them being a firebender, right?"

Iroh took a sip from his tea.

"Right, but what if none of them is?"

Zuko shrugged, but his shoulders remained rigid with tension.

"Then we'll keep trying," he stated, not sparing more words on this topic. It was clear in his head: if you don't succeed on your first try, try again. "And anyway, I think we have time before we have to worry about it."

"You are right, nephew," Iroh nodded. "But there are other issues as well; for example, the people. Do you think the citizens of your cities could accept her?"

This time, it was Zuko who reached for his cup, taking a sip of the slowly cooling tea.

"The people love her, uncle. I've seen her in smaller towns, and even here at the marketplace. She communicates easily; she's kind, easy to love; she always wants to help. Of course, I know that there'll be people who'll be unhappy with her, but most of the citizens want somebody who can heal the scars the war caused, and Katara's the best person for that." He took a brief pause there, only long enough to collect his thoughts, but too short for Iroh to say anything. "And before you'd bring up another issue, let me be a step ahead of you: I know that she's not that well educated; she hasn't studied history or calligraphy, and that she's not familiar to most of our costumes. But the key word here is study – she might be a little bit behind all those noble girls who have been learning all of this since they could talk, but I know her, and I know that she'll make it up. She also managed to learn waterbending in mere months; you saw it, I saw it. I have faith in her. And even with her lack of formal studies, she has way more common sense than any noblewoman. And who do you think would be a greater aid in ruling?

"And Katara's also a person I can rely on, somebody I can trust – when unknown number of councilmen is _less_ than happy with me for dethroning my father and ending the war, councilmen who would be _more_ than happy to see their daughters by my side and have her influence me, have me dance as they whistle… We would never have to worry about it if Katara was my wife. And, as I've already mentioned, by this marriage the Fire nation would get two great allies: the two Water Tribes. New trade routes could be opened, with healers coming from the Northern Water Tribe we could improve our health care system, and we could pay them in exchange with steel and… and vehicles, and, Agni forbid, if a civil war broke out, we could count on military help as well.

"So, everything summed up, everything put together, everything taken into account, I think there are more reasons for me to marry Katara than there are against it," he concluded his speech, the stiffness in his posture replaced by pride and maybe a little stubbornness.

Iroh watched at his nephew, amazed and proud of this young man who'd matured so much in the past year. Who'd grown into his role as Fire Lord. Who was ready to take whole world just to be able to do what he really wanted. The old man found himself smiling again.

"And you love her, let's not forget to add this little fact to the pros as well."

"More than my own life," Zuko confirmed sighing, a dreamy expression on his face. "I have the scar to prove it."

Iroh wanted laugh and cry and hold his nephew close at the same time.

"Then alright," the Dragon of the West said at last, sipping the last of his tea from his cup. "I'll talk with Hakoda, first thing tomorrow. I'll make him see that this is the best decision that could be made and that you are serious about it and have the best, purest intentions." He smiled mischievously. "I'll get Miss Katara's hand for you."

Zuko's face instantly lit up, a brilliant smile illuminating his features.

"Thank you, Uncle, thank you so much, you're–"

"Wait a minute!" said Iroh, interrupting him mid-sentence, waving his upraised forefinger at him. "Before I do anything, you have to promise me something. Or more precisely, two somethings."

"Anything, Uncle."

"First of all, you'll love her. Love her in a way no man has ever loved any woman, every day, until you die." Zuko didn't say anything, only nodded; he didn't find it hard to promise, not at all. "Secondly," Iroh continued, "I want to be made grandfather. Not right away, of course, but the earliest convenient time, am I understood?"

Now, it was a little bit harder to promise.


End file.
